


Just Forget | Just Remember

by achluophobia



Category: Dream SMP - Fandom, Minecraft (Video Game)
Genre: Gen, Hurt No Comfort, Manipulation, Multiple Pronouns for Eret (Video Blogging RPF), Not Beta Read, Not RPF, Panic Attacks, Ranboo-centric (Video Blogging RPF), Repetition, Spiraling, Threats of Violence, i prommy its not rpf, let alone romance looool, theres not even friendships
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-19
Updated: 2021-02-19
Packaged: 2021-03-15 06:15:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,582
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29554773
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/achluophobia/pseuds/achluophobia
Summary: “Oops, I shouldn’t be telling you this. Oops! Forget, Memory Boy! Just forget.”Tubbo looks up at him and laughs, genuine and happy. Ranboo’s breath stilled, if only for a moment, before he forced a casual laugh. “Already ahead of you on that one, Tubbo.”He was a good actor when he needed to be.--Set mostly after and during Valentine's Day Stream, 2/14/2021, mentions of 2/12 and 2/13/2021 streams
Relationships: No Romantic Relationship(s)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 148





	Just Forget | Just Remember

“Oops, I shouldn’t be telling you this. Oops! Forget, Memory Boy! Just forget.”

Tubbo looks up at him and laughs, genuine and happy. Ranboo’s breath stilled, if only for a moment, before he forced a casual laugh. “Already ahead of you on that one, Tubbo.” 

He was a good actor when he needed to be.

— — —

Ouch.

For all it was worth, he had no idea what they’d been talking about. He hadn’t written it down out of respect, but they had been chatting about _something_ in Snowchester. And while he couldn’t remember the context, he remembered that comment, even after he’d gotten back home to sleep. It was hard to describe, really. It was that subtle kind of offhanded comment that makes a good day crack at the seams. It hurt, a little bit. He knew his memory had the retaining power of swiss cheese, but having it mentioned so casually wasn’t… It’s not what he expected from someone he thought he was close to. Dug up bad feelings that swirled in his stomach, ideas of manipulation and subtle ways they might use his faulty mind against him. It left a bad taste in his mouth and he swallowed down the lump in his throat.

 _Tubbo wouldn’t do that,_ he thought. _He’s a good guy, he’s my only - we’re trying to be friends again._

But he couldn’t force away the knot in his stomach when he thought about how casually he was asked to _just forget_ , knowing and friendly. He didn’t mind, even, not being told what was going on. That’s fine, that didn’t matter - it made it easier for him to keep a surface level friendship and avoid choosing a side to ally totally with. But he wondered, his anxiety unhelpful, if this had happened before. A situation like this had happened before, right? Like if he’d been given valuable secrets, information, or important items and been told t-

… 

It had.

Of course it had. 

_Like with the explosives and the disc,_ murmured a tiny piece of his subconscious. He hadn’t remembered being told to forget, so directly, but that didn’t mean it wasn’t the same idea, at its core. And clearly, his loose grasp on his own memory was depended on heavily even then. It made him an easier pawn to move, if he didn’t remember ever being moved, and simply settled in. He sucked in a sharp breath, trying to break the dampness welling in his eyes. No. No! They’d had a good day! He was _not_ going to cry over some stupid joke. With a small huff, he rubbed his eyes on his sleeve, and flipped his blankets over himself so he could finally, _finally_ be awash in darkness. 

The fact normal people could simply close their eyes and have that was a luxury he didn’t get, and he wished he did, sometimes. Maybe he should get sunglasses, like Eret, so dark he could disguise his tired eyes just like they did. Though, he’d found out recently that wasn’t the only reason, when the great King pulled her sunglasses and her heavy crown off and met his eyes with an empty gaze. That was certainly unexpected, and offputting. He still felt a little bad for making him leave, but… Techno’s land, Techno’s rules. _Maybe, if he remembered,_ Ranboo thought dryly, _he’d go speak to Eret again, but about the sunglasses._

He didn’t mean to joke about his own pain, pressing the blankets over his head, but at least it made it easier to sleep. Making jokes about his problems always ebbed away at some of the knot in his stomach. He had big plans, so he had to get over the momentary anxiety and sleep would help… probably. He wanted to examine the Crimson Egg again in the morning, and he got the feeling he should be calm and clear-headed when it came to that. So he could confirm it was only his own mind conjuring another voice. At least, he tried to calm himself down after the tightness in his chest dissipated a little, mulling over his own thoughts.

Tubbo wouldn’t use Ranboo’s failing mind to the advantage of Snowchester’s side. He was too kind to even have the idea of using Ranboo for an information dump, knowing the Enderman would reply with useful things and then forget the conversation ever happened. He was too nice. Too close of a possible friend to do that. Right? Ranboo’s anxious nature and tendency to overthink small things was just getting the better of him. That was all. That was all! Tubbo was kind and understanding with him, and only making an innocent joke. He’d never done anything intentionally malicious to Ranboo! So he probably wouldn’t even try to further his power and gain by having him as a pawn… would he?

Ranboo tried to forget the casual discussions he’d seen where Tubbo debated if a fair trial was even necessary at all when Quackity had built the butcher army. If a man’s life was even worth laying out what he’d done wrong to anger them. 

At least it was easy for him to forget. 

— — —

_The Egg had Thorns, and Ranboo didn’t want to lose a life to a cringe plant._

_Back to the drawing board, saved for another day._

— — —

Saving Michael was going well.

Or… as well as trying to rescue a lonely baby Piglin from the Nether could believably be going. Somehow, they’d even roped _BadBoyHalo_ of all people into helping, made him promise to keep Michael safe at all costs. It did mean scooting some of the bloodvines out of the precarious path they were digging, and the tall demon let them - even if he grumbled and complained about it. A promise is a promise, and it would grow back, anyway. Though it made Tubbo laugh, at least, as Bad grumped about his precious bloodvines being cut down, even a few inches of it. It was kind of amusing, watching the huge demon crouch down and carve out a path with the far shorter Tubbo, Ranboo having been left in charge of scooting the boat around where Michael sat, very careful to avoid water. It meant death for the little Piglin, and quite a bit of pain for the Enderman, so it was instinctual he’d be the most careful about it. Though, as they carved a path directly through the heart of the server, he could feel that careful instinct turn to paranoia. He couldn’t see the surface from here, their mining turned underground, but… 

The hairs raised on the back of his neck as Tubbo joked about how close they were to digging near Pandora’s Vault. The prison... _And the warden had just logged on._ Bad had given a quick ‘haiii’ on their communicators, and Ranboo pursed his lips. Was that all they were going to say? No, someone had to definitely notify him so he didn’t get angry later. Even if they weren’t that close… who knows what kind of precautions Sam had in place. 

He let the others keep mining, pausing to write on the global communication channel and sitting in the small boat to try and relax.

>Ranboo: HELLO Sam  
>Ranboo: We’re digging a path underground near the prison

He waited, nervously. Was that too vague? He wanted to be clear. He didn’t want to keep too many secrets from the Warden, because mostly, Sam and that damn prison… scared him. Maybe he should clarify, before -

>Awesamdude: Be careful what you wish for.

He froze, his hands gripping the tool tightly at Sam’s clinically serious warning. No no no, no! It was nothing bad! It was just all they could do, and he’d fill it in again if Sam asked, personally take the time to fix the tunnels, but he absolutely had to explain.

>Ranboo: IT IS FOR MICHAEL  
>Awesamdude: I’m sure the two of you wouldn’t do anything bad.  
>Ranboo: of course  
>Awesamdude: Otherwise I would have to kill you.

Ranboo’s heart dropped. He was just trying to help. It felt like everyone else was ignoring the conversation, despite the clear threat. Of course, he understood why, of course he knew why that was the solution. Had heard about George breaking out a single block of the prison before giving up, and the resulting threat to end every life George had left if he tried it again. It was too dangerous to risk anything, even as a joke. Sam took his mantle as the Warden more seriously than anyone had imagined him to. Ranboo quickly replied, though his chest felt tight.

>Ranboo: that would not be good

What a stupid reply. He couldn’t think of anything else to even possibly say -

>Awesamdude: I would kill you, and then I would burn all of your memory books.  
>Awesamdude: So you wouldn’t even know what happened.  
>Ranboo: oh  
>Ranboo: its good that wont be necessary then

He felt like he was going to burst at the seams. He felt his skin itching with paranoia, his eyes wide as he tapped out a rapid reply. _It wasn’t even a good one._ At least he didn’t come across as scared as he felt, over the text. Anxiety gripping his heart, he gave a nervous laugh, his emotions uncontainable in that moment. He had to ignore it. Ignore it. _Don’t look vulnerable in front of your friends._ Gripping the sides of the boat, he tried to disregard his feelings, and instead focused on getting Michael to Snowchester. If either Tubbo or BadBoyHalo noticed he was quieter and more nervous than before, they didn’t comment on it. Even if the tall demon _did_ give him an unreadable look as he parted ways just as they reached the soulsand bridge. A blank, but knowing look, a pleasant smile of goodbye that held a notion behind it Ranboo couldn’t understand. It didn’t feel malicious, like _some_ fake smiles he’d seen before, but it was getting harder to tell nowadays.

He wondered what that was all about. Bad hadn’t even noticed that Ranboo had visited the egg to examine it, the day before. Bad hadn’t seen that Ranboo had taken up his pick and tried to crack it, right? … right. Thinking about that made his skin itch for a split second, and it reminded him of the searing pain cracking the egg had shot through him - and he quickly quelled the memory, instead focusing on helping Tubbo make a “room” for Michael. He would think about that… 

Never, hopefully! Hopefully he would not think about that ever. No, he was going to pointedly _absolutely not_ think about The Crimson! And instead, he’d go back home once Tubbo had settled in, trudging back through the snow and nether and all the way to the arctic.

It was once he was back home again, looking through his communicator that he realised something.

— — —

Reading back on the short conversation he’d gone through with Sam was concerning for several reasons, but one stuck out to him. He would only be killed once for disturbing the prison, and his books would all be burnt - his entire file of written memories, his life so far - erased. He knew that for everyone else, they signed away every life they had. Signed away a total death, an ensured end, if they bypassed or interrupted the prison’s security. So… 

So why…? Why did he get a different ultimatum?

… He knew why, but he hated thinking about it.

He knew the answer. He did. He knew.

He knew. 

It made his chest constrict, looking down at the words on the communicator log. Made his hands shake and his thoughts race, race, race. It reminded him, like a spear through the heart, of the words Tubbo had just absentmindedly spoken a few days earlier.

Just forget.  
_Just remember._  
Forget, Memory Boy.  
_Remember._  
> I would burn all of your memory books so you wouldn’t even know what happened.  
_Just remember what you did._

He clamped his hands over his ears, letting the small communicator device bounce into his lap. Ranboo whimpered, ducking his head - he didn’t want to think about it. He didn’t want to think about any of the possibilities a dark part of his subconscious wanted him to believe. That everyone was using him. Depending on his shot memory to leave him complacent and quiet and willing to believe anything he was told. He hadn’t been threatened with losing his only few memories by force before. Ranboo had already been terrified of Sam, but that only really enforced it. Hopefully he’d never have to talk to the warden again! _That would be the best solution,_ he thought. _Just avoid him!_ Just avoid the warden as much as possible. And try to not think about that anxious weight in his heart that wouldn’t stop telling him that his memory loss made him easy to manipulate by anyone on the server who had a side to serve.

_They’re using me, aren’t they?_

A tiny part of him had hope it was wrong, that his anxieties were over nothing. No one meant it, did they? No one meant to just make jokes over the fact they were all he could depend on if he forgot something, if he lost his books, if he overheard something that he was never meant to. Did they?

… was it fun for them?

Was it fun to watch him squirm and itch and cry when he couldn’t remember the most _simple facts_? 

Everyone was laughing at him. It’s never been with him. _It’s never been laughing with him._ He’s been the joke everyone thought was so hilarious this whole time.

He hiccuped, suddenly feeling strangled, and tore his jacket and tie off, clutching at his shirt. Ranboo panted, though his breath caught and he whined, ducking his head. He could feel the soft hissing of his skin as tears started to well in his eyes, burning rashes into his cheeks and dripping onto his hands. At this point, the water’s sting was far better than the mental pain. A dark part of him laughed as he cried, a desperate and broken sound.

“Really? All it took was being prodded twice?” He muttered, aloud. He felt horrible. That was all it took to snap his weak grasp on his friendships? Dumb jokes and a threat he wasn’t ever going to receive? “...I’m pathetic, aren’t I?” Ranboo spoke, quieter now, alone with his thoughts. “Twice and I’m already… I’m already crying?” He laughed again, his voice catching and turning it to a garbled whine.

_Was it only twice?_

… he couldn’t remember.

Briefly, he felt he could almost grasp onto the slipping memories, reach out and touch a reminder that this had happened before. It must have. Even more than Dream using his failing memory to get his cooperation and get him to hold onto the discs. Ranboo would understand if it had only been Dream. But everyone else... they must have been laughing at him, too. Making the same jokes, even if it didn't leave lasting impressions like the last few days. It had to have happened before. He wouldn’t feel this hurt if it hadn’t, right? Maybe he was better off not knowing. Maybe he would be happier if he didn’t have a sinking feeling in his gut that people made him the butt of every memory joke they could come up with.

He knew he’d heard it many, many more times than twice.

He wished he could remember why.

**Author's Note:**

> yes i know they went and bothered foolish but i was mad abt sams threats so i had 2 write ranboo getting mad about em too. i do feel salty about the memory boy joaks and i will never stop being salty about it  
> edited the in game chat convo between ranboo and sam JUST a little for claritys sake but yes he really did say that


End file.
